


Oh how the shifting light

by Elysandra



Series: Hugs in Cups [15]
Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: F/F, Growing Old, Show don't tell, kind of together, rawr exercise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-02
Updated: 2014-03-02
Packaged: 2018-01-14 08:04:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1259011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elysandra/pseuds/Elysandra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's getting older, whether she likes it or not. That doesn't mean she can't pretend, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh how the shifting light

**Author's Note:**

>  
> 
> I had this plotduck for quite some time now, and the RAWR February exercise (show not tell) was the perfect opportunity to finally get it written.  
> "Write a romantic scene with your favorite pairing in any genre or fandom, Valentine setting or not, where the main character shows love, tenderness, affection to another character by their actions. Limit the dialogue and the internal discussion, and let's make it harder by keeping it non-sexual."  
> The title is a line from the song "Fire" by Alison Moyet.
> 
> ~~~

Some days, getting up in the morning turns out to be a complete waste of energy. In retrospect, today has been even worse.

 

Opening her eyes is her first mistake, but Kate wakes somewhat cranky and with an urgent need to see Helen smile at her, to be greeted by her lips. Finding the other half of their bed lonely and cold does not help her mood at all and seems to set the theme for the rest of the day. Not even the little note on Helen’s pillow is able to make her smile, even though she carefully tugs it away in her little box - she cherishes Helen’s notes, but nothing compares to waking up in Helen’s arms.

She eats her breakfast alone while Helen is already out traipsing around some forest or other, leaving the kitchen artificial-sun-lit but empty. Her little thermos has been waiting for her with the coffee still hot, but the kettle on the stove is cold and the subtle aroma of Helen’s tea has vanished. The coffee always tastes strangely bleak without that scent in her nose; at least it does its job to wake her up, though.

 

The day has gone steeply downhill from there, and it is with a weary limp that Kate returns to their rooms that evening. Helen has returned while Kate’s been busy teaching two young scientists-slash-“I don’t like weapons”-pacifists to aim their weapons at the target, at least, instead of their own toes or innocent bystanders, and has vanished in her laboratory with only a quick ‘lunch is in the oven’ text message while Kate has continued this failure of a day trying to teach a bunch of young Cheeros. With the danger their community has been facing above ground recently, they really need to learn how to use their mind-reading skills to anticipate attacks instead of getting distracted by random images popping up in their minds. To say they are only just beginning to understand what ‘concentrate, damn it!’ means is an understatement even though they’ve been working on this for five weeks now and Kate prays the first signs of improvement will come soon. She’s dangerously close to feeling defeated and _that_ just won’t do around mind-reading teenagers she is supposed to train.

 

Helen is sitting in her favourite seat by the window when Kate lets herself into their little ‘not so little’ flat, reading. What else? Leaving her boots at the door, Kate pads across the floor to greet her with a peck on the lips when Helen looks up, then another one on the tip of her nose just because Helen looks so utterly adorable with her reading glasses. She’s taken to wearing them only recently, and Kate suspects it might have more to do with preparing her for the possibility of heaving to wear glasses herself sometime soon than a serious need to ‘rest her eyes’. Helen wearing glasses is a cute and sexy sight, though, so she doesn’t really mind.

“Was your trip successful?”

Helen closes her book, one slender finger staying between the pages to keep her spot, then reaches up to tug at the hair tie keeping Kate’s hair in a ponytail until the locks come tumbling down around her shoulders. It’s a relief to feel the tightness go, and it gets even better when Helen combs her fingers through her hair and massages her scalp.

“Mostly. I found the traces of a bark-snake but the nest was empty. I did find some eggshells, though, and also a bunch of flowers I was hoping to come across. How was your day?”

Kate groans and straightens, because her back begins to protest her current position but also because she feels the need to get as much distance as possible between her day and herself.

“No one got shot, which I count as a success, but I’m very close to strangling certain teenagers. Please ignore any rumours of Cheero-abuse should they come up in the future.”

“That bad, huh?” Helen manages to say with sympathy and only the faintest trace of amusement.

“Worse,” Kate says with a sigh, though the melodrama is kept low by the way Helen’s presence always lightens her mood. She steps around Helen’s chair to the little table and reaches for the tea cup waiting there, peering into it. There’s a rest of golden tea splashing around inside and she drinks it gratefully, even though it’s cold by now.

“There’s fresh orange juice in the fridge,” Helen says, definitely amused now as she picks up her bookmark and closes her book for good.

Kate feels herself perk up. For some reason she’s developed what can almost be called a craving for orange juice recently, but Helen has been trying to get her to eat more healthily anyway, so that’s a good thing. Since she’s finally decided to declare her New Sanctuary ready to be turned into a self-governed community about a decade ago, keeping Kate healthy seems to have become one of Helen’s new pet projects. But while it can be somewhat irritating at times, on some level Kate finds she revels in it, even now, years later. So she just turns to Helen and thanks her with a quick smile before moving toward the kitchen to get herself some wonder juice.

 

“Is your leg bothering you again?” she hears Helen ask behind her just as she’s finished filling her glass, and finds her leaning in the door frame when she turns around. There’s a slight furrow to her brow and she’s studying Kate closely.

“It’s fine,” Kate denies the tug in her leg, willing Helen not to worry. It’s not working, of course.

“Go lie on the bed,” Helen tells her, “I’ll have a look.”

Kate rolls her eyes and finishes her juice.

“It’s fine, Helen. And I need a shower more than anything.”

She cleans the glass and puts it away, then leaves the kitchen in the direction of the bathroom with a reassuring pat on Helen’s arm as she passes her.

“Stop being such a worrywart.”

 

~~~

 

When she comes out of the bathroom, freshly showered, her hair still damp, Helen has pulled back the blankets on the bed and placed an electric blanket on Kate’s half. She’s also changed into one of Kate’s favourite pyjamas and is sitting with her back resting comfortably against the headboard on the other side of the bed, reading but looking up when Kate enters.

“There you are,” she says, and gets up to turn off the blanket. “Nice and clean, I see. Now go lie on the bed.”

Snorting at her stubbornness, Kate nonetheless does as she’s told, taking off her pyjama pants before lying down on the bed. It’s a glorious feeling, if she’s honest, to be able to rest her weary body on the soft, warm mattress. She hears the drawer of Helen’s bedside table open and close, then feels the mattress dip at her feet a few seconds later. A moment of silence follows, then she hears a bottle squirt and something cold drops onto the back of her leg, making her tense for a moment until Helen begins to massage the lotion into her skin and the cold fades. The scent that spreads through the room as the lotion warms is new, though, a somewhat sharp smell that burns faintly and has her scrunch her nose.

“What’s that?”

“A new formula,” Helen says, changing from circles to spread the lotion to kneading the muscles in Kate’s thigh. “I was looking for something that would warm as well as numb the pain. It should help you relax.”

And it does. The pain starts to fade as the warmth covers her skin and seems to seep into her muscles. Helen’s hands work their magic and once she’s gotten used to the smell, Kate finds she likes this new lotion even better than the old one.

She’s half asleep by the time Helen finishes her work by wrapping a towel snuggly around Kate’s leg, tugging the corners under the edges to keep it in place for a while longer.

“Stay with me?” Kate asks sleepily, because it’s still too early for Helen to go to bed but there’s nothing better than having her close.

“Of course.”

Helen puts away the bottle of lotion and leaves the room to wash her hands, then returns to reclaim her previous position and pulls down the blanket over Kate’s body as well as her own legs. Kate turns onto her side and shifts around until her forehead is resting against Helen’s thigh and her arm is slung around her knee with her hand tugged comfortably between two warm legs. The satin of Helen’s pyjamas feels soft against her forehead and nose, familiar. The skin underneath is warm and Helen’s scent engulfs her, and though the rest of the day has been a total loss this is all completely worth it.

Helen moves slightly as she reaches for her book, but then keeps it closed and reaches down to play with Kate’s hair instead.

“You’re not 30 anymore, Kate,” she says quietly, and Kate groans because she knows what’s coming.

“I know.”

“You really need to slow down.”

“Yes, Mom.”

Helen pinches her ear.

“I’m serious.”

Kate tightens her grip on Helen’s thigh, because she knows Helen is worried. But time seems to pass faster and faster every year, so how is she supposed to slow down? They’ve talked about it many times, and Kate has tried to explain that she feels as if her years are slipping through her fingers, but while Helen says she understands she doesn’t seem to _understand_.

Maybe she can’t.

What sounds like a sigh floats through the silence of the room, but Kate’s tiredness has caught up with her and sleep claims her before she has a chance to hear it.


End file.
